Love's Incrimination
by ilovetvalot
Summary: An unexpected love story between complete opposites, but will her insecurity allow her to hold on to the one good thing she has found. Morgan/Strauss


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**Love's Incrimination**

She took a deep breath as she stared out the window, the thick manila folder barely clutched in her fingers as she tried to forget those pictures she had just seen.

She knew spying on him wasn't exactly the way to build a long lasting relationship filled with trust, but damn it, he was who he was.

And she was who she'd always been.

Distrustful. Distant. And despite popular belief, not nearly as confident as she portrayed herself to be.

And it wasn't as though he didn't have a reputation known far and wide to one and all. True, he'd never crossed any of those lines in the sand the Bureau drew regarding illicit relationships - until her, that was.

But she had to know.

She needed the assurance that he really had changed. So she'd set him up. In a bar he'd mentioned he liked to frequent after particularly rough cases. She'd coldly chosen a decoy...a beautiful, young woman that appeared to be exactly like the women he'd seemed to prefer in the past, and she'd sent the woman on a mission.

But the evidence she now held in her hand made her feel like the lowest kind of fool.

Because Derek Morgan had quickly shot the young ingénue down. He'd remained true to her...and apparently her alone.

Shaking her head as she sank into the chair behind her desk. He was right. Her insecurity was going to be the death of what they'd found together. An unlikely duo on the best of days, somehow they'd fallen for each other. Perhaps the initial bond had been formed over their mutual concern for the downward spiral Aaron Hotchner had endured since his ex-wife's death and the precarious situation that Jack had been placed into. But whatever the ultimate reason, she was now in love. With a subordinate.

And that was dangerous at best.

But who could blame her?

What could a handsome, muscular younger man see in her that kept him interested...kept him returning to her bed? Kept him from straying to what must be a greener side of the proverbial fence?

Maybe it was the grim fact that whenever he touched her, innocently or not, she was putty in his hands. And he knew it. Enjoyed it. Relished and reveled in it to an extent that he obviously had never felt before. Every interlude in his arms left her craving more. His lips were like velvet against hers. His hands instinctively knew every erogenous zone on her body and exploited each with zeal. He required no guidance from her. He simply knew.

She still wasn't certain how they'd fallen into this insanity. One late night going over endless case files, attempting to prioritize the hunt for the dregs of society...and it had happened. Their eyes had locked and suddenly the temperature in the room had gone from mildly comfortable to steamy.

She'd been shocked when he'd leaned across the sofa they sat on, files scattered between them, and seized her lips. Too astonished to do more the whimper, she hadn't had time to be surprised when he'd taken swift advantage of her discomfiture, cupping her neck and dragging her closer. She'd tasted heaven in his kiss. Slow, thorough, carnal.

It was everything a kiss was supposed to be...and nothing she'd ever experienced before in all of her years of marriage.

That had been the beginning.

Clothes had been ripped away, papers scattered across the room as they'd writhed against each other, each searching for fulfillment...a way to dim the pain that George Foyet had brought into their unit, into their lives, into their souls. From the very moment his fingers had found a home on her body, she had lost all sense of time, of thought, of understanding. All she knew was that she would never be the same again…not after that. Not after him.

Later, tangled in discarded clothing, papers sticking to their sweaty skin, their eyes had met again. And each had known, this wouldn't be the last time this happened. How could they turn their backs on heaven only to have to return to hell?

Months later, here she was. Still insecure, despite his assurances that older woman or not, she was what he wanted. What he needed. He'd agreed to keep their secret for the sake of their respective careers, but he steadfastly refused to give up the passion they'd found together. They were careful. They made it work.

And, she had to admit, it felt wonderful. Having a skillful lover devoted to giving her mind-blowingly intense passion was a delight that defied explanation, all other experiences paling in the light of their connection.

But if he ever learned of her deception, she thought, looking down at the innocent looking file still held in her hand, it would be over. She knew her lover would tolerate a lot of things from her. Her insane need to be in control. Her need to assert her independence...many things.

But doubting him...investigating him...wasn't one of them. He was a proud man. And she'd crossed a line.

Turning toward the shredder in the corner of her office, she slowly inserted the glossy photographs, one by one, eliminating the evidence of her own self doubt. With each whirring spin of the small motor, she imagined the so-called evidence being destroyed into confetti that could never be brought back in to existence.

Trust was earned. And today, Derek Morgan had earned hers whether he knew it or not. She only hoped she could keep his in spite of her earlier doubts.

Flipping off the machine as the last of the incriminating documents disappeared, she sighed. Glancing at the clock, she licked her lips as she let out a deep sigh.

They'd agreed to meet at his apartment around seven. And in spite of his obliviousness of her deceit, she had a lot to make up for.

And as a thrill of excitement shimmied down her spine, she found herself looking forward to it.

_**Finis**_

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_**Dedicated to my Hero!**_


End file.
